Change of Heart

Midnight Escapade and the Three-Headed Guardian

I couldn't help but push further. "Nothing to say, Granger?"

"Shut up, Warwick," she replied.

Midnight drew nearer, and sleep continued to elude me. In an attempt to occupy my restless mind, I reached for the spell book sitting at the center of the table. I used the soft glow of my wand's light to read without disturbing the others beneath their bedcovers. The book was enthralling, a testament to its brilliant author. It brimmed with detailed notes and straightforward explanations for complex magical spells, making it invaluable for grasping their intricacies.

I eventually peeled back my bedsheet to check my watch; it was half-past eleven. I swiftly retrieved my slippers, wand, and robe, ready to venture downstairs to the common room. Upon entering, I spotted Weasley and Potter by the portrait hole, but the dim lighting still shrouded the armchairs in a haze of shadows.

"Oi, idiots! The-"

"I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry! And I don't expect much from either of you two either," Granger interrupted, flicking on the lamp revealing her laughably hideous pink dressing gown and an annoyed frown. How did I not hear her get out of bed?

"You!" said Ron furiously, pointing his index finger at her. "Go back to bed!"

I began to laugh at this little interaction between the two, which resulted in the two hot heads turning to me with a disapproving scowl.

"I almost told your brother," Hermione snapped. "Percy - he's a Prefect, he'd put a stop to this." Harry and I shared an eye roll at her annoying, intrusive behaviour.

"Come on," Harry said to Ron, taking hold of his arm and pulling him towards the portrait.

"Granger, live a little," I shrugged, following the two boys out of the picture. Like the stubborn fool Granger was, she followed us out the of portrait, hoping to convince us to come back inside.

"Don't any of you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don't want Slytherin to win House Cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells."

"Go away," Ronald snarled, getting fed up with her pestering.

"All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so -" Hermione stood there shocked in front of the painting, her mouth agape realising how much of a mess she is in. The Fat Lady had disappeared some different picture for her own midnight strolls.

"Now what am I going to do?" she asked shrilly.

"I don't know that's your problem," I answered, already starting to walk down the hallway with Weasley and Potter.

"We've got to go, we're going to be late." Hermione soon caught up with us to our disdain, knowing she will be nagging us the whole way.

"I'm coming with you," she said.

"You are not."

"D'you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us, I'll tell him the truth that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up."

"Well, she has us there," I stated, kind of impressed.

"You've got some nerve -" Weasley loudly said.

"Shut up, both of you!" said Harry sharply. "I heard something."

The sound of rustling fabric emanated from the shadow.

"Mrs Norris?" breathed Weasley, squinting into the darkness to get a better look. However, it was not the furry beast, but Longbottom pathetically curled up in a ball on the stone floor, fast asleep. He suddenly jerked up from his slumber as we crept nearer to him, giving us a startle.